


Of Poetry and Apologies

by Azamatic



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Apologies, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poetry, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azamatic/pseuds/Azamatic
Summary: You may have made assumptions about Thomas, and he was hurt yet again about how people were constantly making assumptions about him. You'd never set out to intentionally hurt him and it was up to you to make it up to him!
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Reader
Kudos: 15





	Of Poetry and Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing for this particular fandom, having only started watching it a week or so ago (sorry guys!)
> 
> Not my best work by far, and this was born yet again out of a mixture of daydreaming and deep Thomas related conversations with a close boo of mine who got me into said fandom. Ta Kate! This one is for you <3
> 
> Again, comments and kudos's are much appreciated. Happy reading!

Winter at Downton was always a pain for you. You felt the temperature more than most people there. When it was hot, you'd feel like you were on the point of self combustion. When it was cold, you'd feel like you'd turn into one of those ice sculptures that Lord Grantham has for decoration during certain dinners. This winter was no exception.

A change in staffing meant you had to room share for a while with someone else, and of all the people you got stuck with, it had to be Thomas Barrow. The stunningly gorgeous man that just happened to be one of the nastiest people in the whole of Downton at times. What had you done to deserve this. How could it be anything other than torture.

Truth be told, you and him and grown quite close and fond of each other, although you both wouldn't care to admit it. But his pettiness and cruelty still wound you up most of the time.

You'd assumed the same foetal position you were used to for the past few nights, trying to gather every scrap of warmth you could. Damn you and your small single bed. And an extra damn on Thomas for his nice, big, warm, cosy double bed. There's you nearly freezing to death and there's Mr high and might over there thinking he's Gods gift.

Thomas had started to get more than a little annoyed by the sound of your chattering teeth. Enough is enough he thought.

“Sod this.” He said out loud before flipping open his duvet and backing up against the wall. “I'm not going to get any sleep the way this is going. Get over here.”

You turned, albeit stiffly, onto your other side so you could face him. You liked Thomas, despite his harsh nature. But did you like him enough to share his bed with him? Even if it was platonic? To hell with it. If it meant you could get warm, then so be it.

You stood up, eliciting a stiff and audible click from your knees that made Thomas wince ever so slightly. You tip toed across the cold floor, careful not to tread on the spots that you know would make the most noise and settled yourself on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as you could. Lifting your legs up and under the covers was a little easier now that you'd made the few steps from your bed to his.

Before you could reach up and pull the covers over yourself, Thomas had done just that, making sure that it was tucked in around you just enough. You weren't used to be show this type of 'intimacy', if you could call it that. So you moved as close to the edge of the bed as you could.

Thomas' gruff sleep laced voice came from behind you. “Now come on now, surely I'm not that bad a person?” You could feel him shift closer towards the middle, enticing you to do the same. Oh that warmth. How did this man run so warm? And what was the smell? Mint? Cotton? It was intoxicating, quickly lulling you into a warm and gentle sleep.

\--------------------

You slowly awoke, feeling more warm and content than you had done in a long time. As you went to get up to start your day, your felt yourself weighed down. Still sleep drowsy, this worried you a little. So you gently lifted the cover and saw a hand curled around your waist. A hand? Wait, what? Was this a dream? You rolled over as gently as you could and found yourself face to face, or rather nose to nose with Thomas. Don't wake up now you thought to yourself.

“Nice to hear you're awake.”   
  
_Bollocks._

You rolled back over to hide your ever increasing blush. Did he just try to bring you closer and tighten his hold on you?

You'd readied yourself to get up, putting one foot on the floor. But it was already starting to get cold. Surely another few minutes of warmth wouldn't hurt.

He was starting to sit up now, reaching for the small book on his bedside table. You sat up with him, surprised when he draped an arm around you and pulled you close again. You looked up to question him, but stopped at the sight. Glasses. Since when did he wear glasses?

And what was it he was reading? Poetry? This elicited a snort from yourself. He turned ever so slightly and looked down at you. “Something amusing?”

You smiled. “I...I just never took you for a poetry sort of man. Or a reading man to be honest.”

The small smile left his face. “Yes,well, there are a lot of things people don't know about me.”

He set his book down and throws open the cover to get up.

“I...I'm sorry for making assumptions.”

He stood at the door and made the most bitter face you'd ever seen him pull.

“Yes, well, you're just doing what everyone else here does.”

You'd half expected him to slam the door shut, but he instead shut it gently. You hadn't meant to upset him. That was never your intention with him. But after that, what was your intention with him?

\--------------------

The whole day went unbearably slow and the silence between you and Thomas was as tense as it could be. Dinner down with the servants seemed even more subdued than usually, with you both sitting t opposite ends of the table as opposed to sitting opposite each other like you usually do. You quietly excused yourself before everyone got settled down to eat. It was getting to you now how you'd upset Thomas by saying what you did. You wanted to make it up to him somehow, and you had an idea of how you could.

With Lord Grantham's servant on temporary leave to visit an ill relative, You'd stepped up to fill his shoes, meaning you sometimes didn't get to return to your quarters till quite late. And tonight, you were dreading returning to your room more than anything.

You stumbled into your shared room later than usual, with his lordship keeping you behind to ask your opinion on a few matters, not that you thought you had any right to indulge in his request, given your usual status.

As apprehensive as you were, the sight before you warmed your heart. Thomas was almost fully lying down, glasses nearly sliding off of the end of his nose, with your gift in his hand. You'd wanted to apologise in person, but couldn't bring yourself to potentially cause any more offence. Truth be told, you were quite taken aback when you found out about Thomas' love of poetry, something which you yourself shared. So you'd given him a small book of your own poetry that you'd slowly written and created over the years, hoping that he would accept this as a form of an apology.

You went over and gently removed the glasses from him and moving his hair from his face, setting them aside on the bedside table. He was still holding the note you'd included with it, a note that said all the things you'd have found difficult to say in person. How you shouldn't have made assumptions, how you shouldn't have made fun of mocking him as a person for liking something, how you'd promised to never judge him again and accepted him for who is was. Not a perfect man, but deep down, a kind, battered soul who needed someone to be there for him when nobody else would be.

You could see he'd started to read the book, noticing a small piece of paper sticking out the top marking his place in the book. Curious, you opened it up to see his handwriting on that small piece.

“This piece is my favourite so far. All is forgiven. T x”

Your eyes lingered over the page.

“When caring thoughts and troubled minds do lend their hands to me  
I'll give them peace, I'll give them love  
A love they'll grow to see.”

That little kiss at the end made your heart flutter. Who knew Thomascould be so affectionate without saying anything. You placed the piece of paper on your bedside table, something you'd treasure now.

You changed and slipped under your covers, grateful that the weather had started to ease up a little and that Thomas had lit a small fire in the room. You couldn't help but stare at the man in the other bed.

Acceptance was the one thing holding Thomas, and potentially you back. You wouldn't tell him about yourself until you felt ready. He was a battered soul that wanted so much to properly fit into the world. That was when you'd make him a promise to be there for him and support him, come what may. Although he may not want one at times, you'd be a friend for him when he needed one.


End file.
